Persona: USA
by Merral D'Avanos
Summary: In the heart of the Manhattan streets, something unseen and evil roams the minds and feeds off the souls of the innocent in this untold story of Persona; USA. Join Ryan Jackson and his band of misfit vigilantes as they battle to keep this unknown force of evil at bay that proceed to terrorize the people or New York. Rated T for language, violence, and suggestive situations.


Introduction

(Present Day)

"Miller!" A loud and gruff voice bellows.

"Yeah, Cap?" Miller answers from his desk.

"My office, now."

Miller got up from his desk, tugged on the collar of his shirt, and stepped into his captain's office of the police precinct headquarters. The captain sat down slowly and exhaled dramatically. "Close the door." Miller closed the door, and the noise outside the office quieted.

"What is it?" Miller asks.

"You know what. Don't give me that I'm just a man so I don't know shit attitude." the captain said indignantly. "You sent that girl home with her parents. Just like that? No psych evaluation, no exam, no questioning, no nothing!? What is the matter with you?!"

"Look, Captain, there was no point. After all the other children we tried to talk to, none of them said anything."

"So you just let this one up and leave like she just got off a Ferris wheel?"

"None of them talked." Miller said. "There wasn't anything I could do. Their parents came, they picked their kids up, and they left. I couldn't put any of them in holding. What would be the point?"

"The point being, detective, is answers. I got not a single answer or even a single god damn peep out of anyone!"

"No shit!" Miller said, "I got nothing either! Every time I said something, they just stared at the wall drooling like a lobotomy patient!"

"….Wait. You're telling me they all just sat there, staring at the wall, motionless?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying! What the hell am I supposed to do? If the parents come to get them, then my hands are tied!"

"Okay, I get that part, but did anyone say anything?"

"Not a fucking thing. It was like talking to a wall while the paint dries. It's really fucking weird, right? I don't get it either. I told the parents that we should probably give them evaluations, but there were no takers. They even had to drag their kids out the door like they couldn't walk themselves."

"So, you're telling me, all these kids acted like vegetable plants the entire time? Are you shitting me! That's the biggest load of bullshit I've heard since Nixon's not guilty plea!"

Miller put his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm not lying, Cap." he said. "I got nothing. What more do you want me to say? I'm just about as frustrated and confused as you are! You'd think that if I had anything to give you, it'd be on your desk by now."

The captain scratched his head. "Ok…so, let me get this straight one more time. All subjects, all high school students, all acting like vegetables, all staring at the wall, all left without even passing fucking gas?!"

Miller slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, exactly. That's all I got. Seriously, there's nothing left here."

The captain got out of his chair and stared out the window. He turned around and asked, "Were they drugged?"

Miller shook his head. "All the uniforms that picked them up did breathalyzers, all the EMTs drew blood….as far as anyone could tell, no drugs."

"What about physical injuries." The captain said.

"Not even a scratch." Miller interjected. "No head wounds, no blood, no trauma, no slash marks, nothing. It's as if something just drained their souls right out of their bodies."

"Are you trying to be funny, detective, or do I need to give you a psych evaluation?"

Miller threw his hands up. "Jesus, Cap! I said I got nothing! What more do you want me to say?!"

The captain sighed and sat back down. "Ok…ok calm down. I'm sorry, Miller." he said. "How was I supposed to know this was going to be a crap shoot?…..This just seems…strange."

"Yeah." Miller grunted. "You're telling me."

After a long pause, the captain spoke again. "I want you to dig up anything you can. Use any resource or contact you have. I need something on my desk by noon today. I don't care if it's just a piece of paper with someone's ass on it. I want something."

Miller looked at his watch and noted the time. 2:08am. "That doesn't give me much time." he said.

"Then you better get started." the captain said right before he was interrupted by a someone poking her head through his office door. "What is it, Woods?"

"I think you should see this, Cap." the woman said.

Miller and the Captain followed her to a double desk that she and Miller shared as partners. In front of one of the computers was a cellphone plugged into the monitor with a readout of information. Woods sat down and started clicking the mouse around.

"This is a cellphone from one of the suspects in holding." she said.

"There's not a whole lot on there." Miller said. "For a teenage guy, he sure doesn't use his phone much."

"My thoughts exactly." she remarked as the computer displayed some information. "There's a few outgoing and incoming calls, a couple text messages, and a very short browser history."

The captain leaned forward to get a closer look as he adjusted his glasses. "Weird." he said. "His browser history only shows internet searches and images of diagrams. Is he in construction or something?"

Woods picked up a file from her desk. "The suspect is only in high school, unemployed, lives alone in a small apartment on the corner of twenty second, lower east side of Manhattan. He's got no priors convictions, no moving violations, not even a noise complaint."

"Then who is this guy?" Miller asked. "And what the fuck are those diagrams?"

"I tried running a general enhancement and restoration of the original download." Woods said as the computer showed an enlarged version of what they were looking at.

"Is that a gun?" The captain asked, looking at an image of what appeared to be an obscurely shaped handgun pistol.

Miller shook his head. "Not like any gun I've ever seen. The barrel isn't even rifled."

Woods pulled up another image. "And here's something else."

"A cellphone?" the captain asked. "A diagram of a cellphone?"

"Sure looks like it, although I've never seen a cellphone like this before." Woods said. "And all the diagrams are labeled in Japanese."

"Translate it." the captain said.

Woods started typing. "This'll take a sec."

They waiting a few moments until the image changed.

"The fuck?" Miller muttered.

"That's not even the best part." Woods said, pulling up a video file. "Check this out."

The three of them watched a distorted video of what appeared to be an alleyway. Little explosions kept going off in the alley way as people frantically ran to a fro all over the place screaming. Something big and something very strange looking took shape in the video, but through the dust and static of the video, it was impossible to make out. It's shape was completely inhuman, and its size was too big to be a person. Suddenly, the image on the screen blurred right before coming to a standstill, suggesting the phone fell from the hand of whoever was holding it. In the corner of the screen was a lone figure who remained motionless despite the frantic running of people around him.

"That's the suspect." Woods said. "I think he dropped his phone to pull this out of his jacket." She paused the screen and enlarged the bottom left corner of the image. The figure was holding what looked like a gun up to his head with a finger pointed towards the large shape. "This is where it gets really confusing."

The audio of the video playback was sketchy at best, but the video clearly showed that the lone figure yelled something right before pulling the trigger of the gun. The force of the gun's explosion rocked the figure's head to the side, but he remained standing. Bright blue light erupted from the figure and something emerged. At that moment, the video stream cut out.

The captain stood up and pointed to the two of them. "Put the suspect in interrogation." he said. "I want some answers."

-o0o-

Ryan Jackson sat in an uncomfortable metal chair, shackled by handcuffs to the table in front of him in a dark room with a pitch black glass panel on one of the walls. His hair, like a mop of untidy mess long black and red hair fell over his face at an angle with a small ribbon wrapped around the back of his head in a ponytail. His clothes, dirty and unwashed, clung to him with a musky smell his own sweat. Without a doubt, he was extremely uncomfortable.

Two people, a man and a woman, both dressed formally, entered the room. The man placed a file down on the table in front of him and took the chair across from him while the woman folded her arms and stood against the wall.

"Mr. Jackson, is it?" the man asked, "Or do I have you mistaken for someone else."

"Nope." Ryan said. "That's me. Since were asking questions, mind if I throw one your way?"

Detective Miller shook his head casually. "Go for it, kid."

Ryan leaned forward. "Am I being charged with anything?" he asked, voice hoarse with bags under his eyes. "I'm a bit tired, and could use something to eat."

"Sure." Miller said. "Right after you answer a few questions." He pulled a still image from the video he had seen earlier and slid the photo across the table. "Mind telling us what this is all about?"

Ryan slid the photo back towards him with his free hand and sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Why don't you just try me, kid." he said. "Maybe we can help you."

"Help me?" Ryan laughed. "Don't give me that shit. You can't help me. No one can. You cant stop what's going to happen."

"What's going to happen?" the woman asked.

Ryan turned to face her. "Almost forgot you were there." he laughed. "Trust me. You don't want to know."

"Okay…" Miller said while reaching into his pocket and placing something on the table with a metallic thud. "Here's another question not to answer. What the fuck is this?"

Ryan's eyes flared open and he tried to snatch it up, but failed due to the restraints on his wrist. "Where did you get that?!"

"Whoa easy there, kid." Miller said, throwing his hands up like he was calming down an animal.

"You need to give that back to me right now." Ryan said frantically. "Give that back and let me go!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that just yet." the woman said, "Not until you explain this." She tapped her fingers of the photo on the table showing an image of Ryan holding that same gun up to his head.

Ryan sighed and leaned back into his chair. "Like I said, you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Oh for shit sake, kid!" Miller stood up and pounded his fists on the table. "Just answer the god damn question."

Ryan looked at him. "Why?" he asked. "What good would that do?"

Miller started pacing the room. "You know what, I don't have time for your little shit games." he said, picking the gun up from the table. Ryan stood up and stared him down as Miller pointed the gun not an inch away from his face. "What would happen if I pulled the trigger right now!?"

Woods put her hands up. "Whoa! Calm down, Miller." she said, "Take it easy."

"NO!" Miller screamed. "No it don't think so! I haven't slept for days, kids are losing there minds, and this little pipsqueak should be fucking dead!"

"Go ahead." Ryan said, smiling. "Pull the trigger. Do it. DO IT!"

Woods smacked the gun out of Millers hands and shoved him against the wall. "Calm down!' she said. "Calm the fuck down!"

Miller sighed and relaxed his body. "Okay okay, I got it." he sighed. "I'm good I'm good."

Woods released her grip and walked towards the table. She held up the photo and said, "We have you on video shooting yourself in head, and yet you sit here alive and well. Now tell us what the fuck that's all about!"

Ryan sat down slowly and folded his hands together. In frustration, he said, "I already told you. You wouldn't believe me."

Woods looked at him, then at Miller, than back at Ryan. "Okay, look. You tell us everything, and we'll let you walk out of here."

"I get my shit back too?" Ryan asked.

She nodded. "You got it. Just tell us what's going on, and maybe we might be able to help you too."

"You guys are totally fucking lying." Ryan shrugged his shoulders and took a deep breath. "This is pointless, but if you really wanna know, then here goes. it's not going to matter anyway. You honestly won't believe me."

Woods and Miller sat down in front of him at the table. "Try me. Just start from the very beginning, kid." Miller said, "And don't leave anything out."

Ryan looked down at his hands. He paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. "It all started about two weeks ago. I was at practice."

"Practice for what?" Woods asked.

Ryan looked up at her and clenched his fist. "Wrestling Practice."

-o0o-

"Would you two shut the fuck up!"

Ryan and Kevin let go of each other and stood on the wrestling mat they were on ornately adorn with a large eagle in the center. The map was split up into three sections pieced together, red white and blue. On the red section at the far end of the gym, Ryan and Kevin could always be seen together as wrestling partners. Although both being rather smaller than most wrestlers, they took up a lot of mat space due to their nearly acrobatic skills they had. Unfortunately for them, their coach frequently yells at them for making small talk while practicing, like what just happened. Their coach, a tall and heavy set blonde man from Russia who practiced with the Russian Olympic team nearly twenty years ago, now resides in lower east Manhattan where he coaches one of the counties most prestigious high school known for wrestling. Along with Ryan and Kevin, nearly thirty other wrestlers of varying weight classes wore the same colors. Only these particular two had the cockiness and nerve to mouth off to their coach.

"Eight laps around the god damn track before I shove my foot so far up your asses you'll be yakking up my toenails!"

To be blunt, the coach ought to have been fired a very long time ago. That's one of the reasons why he coaches high school and not college level wrestling. Fortunately for him, the school principal doesn't seem to mind. That and the fact that he's actually a good coach are the only two reasons why he has the job he does. The same goes for Ryan and Kevin. If those two punk kids (as most people seem them) weren't so good at what they do, then they wouldn't even be showing up to school.

Despite being shouted at, Kevin kept their little stupid conversation going. "Dude, you gotta level with me"

As they ran out of the gym and up to the track after putting on their sweats, Ryan pulled his headgear off and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Thanks man, but no thanks. I've seen the girls you date. I'd rather take my chances with a needle off the ground."

"Oh shit." Kevin laughed. "That's cold, bro. Wait, what the fuck you talkin' bout? My girls are hot to trot on a cold winter night, bitch! You trippin!"

"Okay, two things dude." Ryan said as they started running slowly around the track. "One, all the girls you date are nothing but back alley tricksters, and two, the fact that you said the word "girls" implies that you just as much of a whore as they are."

"Why you gotta hate a brother, nigga?" Kevin scowled. "Just cause I like options don't give you reason to be puttin' me down, man. And besides, it ain't my fault you so gay, bitch."

"Gay?" Ryan gave his dark skinned friend a dirty look. "Just cause I want something real doesn't mean I like men."

"Yeah dawg, you say that but you gay as fuck." Kevin laughed. "I mean, look at you! Emo hair, you be rollin' in skinny jeans, your freakishly gay lookin' face, I mean, you got gay written all over you like a fucking newspaper! Just cause you Asian don't make you like special or somethin."

"The word you're looking for, Einstein, is 'exempt'." Ryan said as they rounded the corner of the track. "And finish your fucking sentences. You sound like an ignorant piece of nigger shit when you mouth off like that."

"Hey! What I say bout hate'in, nigga?" Kevin said, spitting on the ground. "You got gay AND hate all over you like a full body tramp stamp."

Ryan laughed. "Do you not hear yourself speak?" he said. "You sound like a reject out of a bad Samuel Jackson movie."

"Whateva nigga." Kevin said. "Least I ain't gay as fuck like yo gay yellow ass."

Most people thought that Kevin and Ryan absolutely hate each other, but they are in fact best friends. Despite their repeated retorts and racial slurs, the two of them are nearly inseparable, on and off the mat. On the street, these unlikely pair visually clash like and eighties montage. A black and Asian duo don't exactly look right walking down the street. That's especially true in the lower east side. Kevin usually wears baggy clothes and lots of shiny bling while Ryan wears skinny jeans and Affliction t-shirts with leather bracelets. This odd pair earned the nickname "black and yellow" at school, which no doubt many people found hilarious when that said nickname is said repeatedly. Ryan and Kevin didn't seem to mind it at all. They honestly couldn't give two shits.

As they rounded a corner for their second lap, Ryan said something as he threw his headgear on the grass. "So have you seen the news lately?"

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Kevin asked. "here we are, havin' a nice talk bout you comin' outa da closet, and you all throw your stupid subject change shit at me."

"Okay, dude seriously, we need to work on your grammar. I'm not joking, man. And yeah bitch, the fucking news. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah, dawg." Kevin sighed. "I saw the news. My ma watches that shit after dinner. It's fucking stupid."

"What's so stupid about the news?"

Kevin spat on the ground again. "The news, my yellow brotha, is nothing' but a bunch of stupid-ass white folk bitchin and moanin' that they ain't got enough momeny or some shit, or some little white girl goes missing."

"Are you seriously making the news a racial thing now?" Ryan said. "If you're worried about air time, black people are on the news a lot."

"Yeah?" Kevin looked at Ryan. "No fuckin' shit black people are on the news, dawg! Thanks to the fuckin news, everyone think all black people are criminals or some shit. All you white folk do is bitch and complain about how the world don't kiss yo fuckin asses no more, and we nigga get the bad rep!"

"I shouldn't have even mentioned it." Ryan sighed as they jogged.

Kevin nodded in agreement. "That's right. You shoulda kept yo punk ass mouth closed like a good white boy."

"I'm not white, dude. Why do you insist on labeling me? First I'm gay, then a hater, then a racist."

Kevin put his hands up. "Alright, alright, maybe I was wrong bout that whole racist part. The gay and hater shit, yeah you all that and a pile o' shit, but I'll take that racist thing back if it bothers that bitch ass of yours that much."

Ryan stopped jogging, which got Kevin's attention. "Man, I'm fucking serious." he said. "I agree with you. Usually, the news is nothing but white people and their problems, but not this time. The news has been weird as hell lately."

"Yeah, dawg." Kevin. "Like I said, my ma is freakin' the fuck out bout that shit. She all like 'Kevin, you get yo black ass home by six! I don't want no son of mine getting in trouble with heaven knows what could be out there. Lord Almighty what is going to happen to my baby boy?!'"

"That's impression was creepy." Ryan said. "You're mom does not sound like that. That shit right there was more like a weird old lady getting out of church."

"Yeah, that's my ma, stupid." Kevin said. "For an Asian, yo light bulb ain't all that bright."

"Sure as hell a light brighter than your chrome dome." Ryan said.

"Nigga, hush yo mouth." Kevin said, looking around.

Ryan palmed his face. "Oh my god. You really are fucking crazy."

"I said hush, nigga!" Kevin in a hoarse whisper.

"You know what, I've been up since five this morning." Ryan said, starting to walk away. "I'm going home."

Without a moment's notice, the blue and red flashing strobes and loud sirens of police vehicles filled the street in a flurry as if the whole precinct's cavalry was on their way to a crime scene. At least ten cars flew by down the street, whipping up some wind as the blurry objects of black and white disappeared into the not so far distance and around a corner. Kevin and Ryan both looked at each other.

"What the fuck was that about?" Ryan asked. "I don't remember hearing any gunshots. Do you?"

"Hell no." Kevin said. "I woulda noticed that shit."

"Wanna check it out?" Ryan asked, smiling.

Kevin emphatically pumped his fist. "You know it!"

They both started to run down the street towards where the cars had rounded a corner. After passing quite a few confused and curious pedestrians hanging around pizza joints and hotdog stands by the street corner, they saw all the police cars in a cluster blocker off an alley way. There was a crowd gathering. Lots of boys in blue were telling people to stay back while others wearing tactical vests and helmets and holding shotguns started walking down the alley past their line of sight.

"I can't see anything." Ryan said, trying to weave his way into the crowd.

Kevin, right on his tail, shook his head. "Naw, man. I can't see shit."

With a loud echoing blast, two shotgun shells went off. The whole crowd ducked and started to scream as everyone began running away. People dropped their phones and purses as they tried to flee. Everyone, but two people, that is. Two people wearing grey sweat suits with the words "Jameson High School" weaving their way even further towards the black and white cars.

More shotgun shells went off, causing an even bigger state of panic, following the occasional sound of a small firearm being fired. Whatever was down that alley, not even tactical SWAT with shotguns could take down. Even in the midst of the chaos, two young men were still dumb and stupid enough to press on forward to see what was down that alley.

What Ryan saw, even now he cannot fully describe in words. It wasn't until later that he knew what it was, but as he gazed upon that large and monstrously ugly form of a creature far off in the distance down the alley, something inside of him told him to keep going. Once he saw that shape, he couldn't leave. It wasn't curiosity or foolish bravery that kept his feet moving, but something kept his eyes locked onto that being.

"OH SHIT!" Kevin freaked out. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NASTY SHIT!?"

Ryan couldn't hear him. Somehow, all the background noise around him had nearly dulled down low in volume. Everything moved by him in a blur. His body felt heavy and his mind confused. In the midst of the muffled chaos, he heard something that shook his core to the bone and made the spiders on the nape of his neck crawl. A wise, old voice said these words that are clear to him as the moment he heard them.

"…..I art thou, and thou art I….."

Ryan froze misstep. His vision blurred, his head became dizzy, and he felt as if he couldn't move. The voice kept repeating itself over and over in his head. Over and over again. He screamed and shouted to the voice to shut up, to stop.

The voice did exactly that.

Now, with mental clarity restored, vision clear, and body back to normal, he found himself standing around bodies. The bodies of the policemen all over the ground in the alley. He couldn't tell if they were dead or not, but no one was moving. Something big, and something bad must have happened. If all these guns were taken out by whatever was here, it must have been something quite formidable.

And that something was staring him dead in the face. It wasn't until Ryan looked up did he realize that the beast of disgust and evil he had seen before in the distance was now mere feet from himself. The malformed animalish beast before him reared its head at him, and Ryan fell back on his ass. He heard a voice and saw from the corner of his peripheral vision a human figure holding a weapon. A gun. A gun that he had never seen the likes of before. That human in front of him shouted something inaudible to Ryan, and the beast suddenly charged.

There was only a split second for Ryan to react. He instinctively dove to the side and rolled out of the way of the beast's gigantic fist punching through the brick wall he was just standing near not a second before. Something filled Ryan's mind, a something he couldn't rationally explain. That feeling was fear, which he didn't recognize at first. When he realized that this beast was out to kill him, Ryan started to run to the nearest body on the ground where a shotgun laid by the hand of the motionless woman in a police uniform. He picked up the gun, cocked the barrel, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The force of the explosion from the gun was more than he expected. He had never fired a gun before, and was taken aback by the power of the weapon. To his utter amazement, the beast seemed physically unaffected by it. Ryan stared at it with disbelief. The twelve gauge in his hands did nothing but piss the it off.

Another gigantic fist came crashing down on the ground, and Ryan again barely managed to dodge it. The impact of the fist shook the ground and caused Ryan to stumble. Not a second after he regained his balance did he have to yet again doge another fist that shook the ground with unbelievable force. Ryan turned, cocked the weapon, and pulled the trigger again, this time without blinking. He saw the impact cluster of the shotgun shell hit his target, but again it had no affect.

As the fists kept raining down on him Ryan ran from side to side down the alley towards the beast, firing way. It wasn't working. The blast of the gun seemed to have no affect at all. At last, with a cl4ear line of shot at point blank range, Ryan pulled the trigger with the barrel pointed dead straight at the beast's face. Instead of the painfully loud and excruciating punch of the weapon he had come to expect, nothing happened. It took a moment for Ryan to realize he was out of ammo.

As if mockingly, the beast smiled with glared red eyes. Ryan dove as far as he could away and landed painfully on his side on the ground. Just before a fist hit the ground where he was standing. This time, he was too tired and in too much pain to get up in time. As the first rose from the ground and hovered over his head, he closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

Time seemed to slow down and the dust in the air moved slowly in wisps across the ground. Ryan opened his eyes to see and feel everything flowing like a glacier, as if the speed time had been dialed down a notch or two.

"…I am thou…"

That voice! That fucking voice! Ryan looked around, confused. He tried to speak, to scream, to yell, but he couldn't. all he could do was stand there and listen to the sound of this lone voice.

"…And thou art I…"

Something clicked in Ryan's mind that he hadn't considered. In that split second before he was about to be crushed, he realized a major flaw in his strategy to survive. The beast, whatever it was, seemed to be directed by something or someone. There was still that lone figure in his peripheral vision holding a weapon. The strange thing was the weapon was pointed at him. The person holding it was pointing the weapon at his own head, finger still waving around in the air. Nothing about this situation made any sense. None of it at all made any connection in his head. Without putting much thought into his actions, Ryan rolled to one shoulder on the ground, swept a pistol of a fallen officer into his hands, and pulled the trigger.

The beast, just as the fist was coming down, suddenly vaporized into shining blue dust. The person Ryan had just shot slowly collapsed to the ground. Now, only the sound of the abandoned police cars and screams of people in the distance filled the air.

After slowly getting up, Ryan limped over to the dead man he had just killed. He was dressed in plain clothes and didn't stand out at all. Just an average looking Joe to him, except with a pool of blood growing beneath him. Without a doubt, he was dead. The realization of having just killed a man took a few seconds to set in.

"Holy…." Ryan gasped. "…Shit! What the fuck was that!" He kicked and screamed at the dead man. His words eventually didn't make any sense. The shock and awe of what just happened and what he couldn't bring himself to believe that happened slowly set in. he collapsed on his knees on next to the dead man and noticed the gun now a few feet away on the ground. Ryan slowly picked it up and looked at it.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen. The weapon didn't appear to be a weapon at all. The barrel was rectangular instead of circular, there didn't appear to be any magazine, and there were no iron sights on the device at all. It was in the shape of a gun, but was anything but.

Backup had arrived with more police cars and armed men in blue running down the alley. At this point, two things occurred to Ryan that scared him. One; he had just killed someone by using a policeman's gun. That probably wouldn't go over with the cops. Two; he was now standing over a literal dead army of police with what looks like a weapon in his hands. As the police rushed towards him, screaming at him to lower his gun and get on the ground, only one possible way out of this bad scenario entered his head.

RUN.


End file.
